


la douleur exquise

by bi_lovely



Series: we're secretly out of control [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Enjolras, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Pining, Top Grantaire, a lil bit of fluff, as always, bondage talk, enjolras and grantaire are both huge messes, enjolras' perspective, ive mentioned it before and i'll say it again, lots and lots of angst as always, mentions of bondage, now combeferre is the only one with common sense, remember how in this fic's sister eponine was the only one with common sense?, this is not what you would call a healthy relationship, we still love them both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10157609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_lovely/pseuds/bi_lovely
Summary: Enjolras threw caution to the wind. "Were you being honest when you said you'd fuck me if I asked when I'm sober? You don't have to answer that , by the way." He swore he spotted a little bit of pink in Grantaire’s cheeks.OrEnjolras is a pining fool which would be all well and good if he weren't so damn bad at the whole "feelings" thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> whoaaaa this took a long time. whoops.
> 
> there are some minor inconsistencies between the two fics and i'm just way too lay to fix them i'm sorry guys. i hope you enjoy anyway despite my incompetence
> 
> (if you would like to apply to edit my future fanfictions and work with me, give me some second opinions, and help me out in places where I need to touch up the story then please copy and paste the link below to fill out the application form  
> https://goo.gl/forms/MjwceEHAhTdcp2Xf2 )

**_la douleur exquise:_ ** _ the exquisite pain of wanting someone that you know you can never have, and knowing that you will still try to be with them.  _

***

Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s reactions to Enjolras’ retelling of his night with Grantaire were…  _ loud _ … to say the least. 

“Would you  _ shut up? _ ” Enjolras hissed. They were walking down the middle of the hallway toward their respective classes and Enjolras did  _ not  _ need everyone around them to hear about how he had had a drunken one night stand with Grantaire and how it had been a very stupid thing to do. He had told the story quickly and in a low whisper for a  _ reason,  _ goddamnit. 

“You know what? No. No! I  _ won’t  _ shut up!” Courfeyrac bellowed. “Seriously, Enjolras, how unbelievably stupid can you possibly be?! I once took you for a man of great intelligence but —  _ ha!  _ Not anymore, I guess!”

“Well, it’s your own fault,” Combeferre sighed. 

“Yes, I know — I  _ know,  _ okay?” Enjolras huffed. He should have just lied and told them nothing happened.    
  
“No, not you,” Combeferre sighed again. “Well, yes you. Very much you. This is definitely your fault, but  _ Courfeyrac  _ —”

Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I told you not to let him out of your sight and it was your idea to go and get him drunk,” Combeferre said. 

Courfeyrac raised a finger, about to tell Combeferre off, but then he dropped it and huffed. “Yeah, good point.”

“Now, wait just a minute!” Enjolras said. “No!  _ Not  _ a good point! Not at all! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“You sure about that?” Courfeyrac asked at the same time Combeferre said, “Well, clearly you do,” and Enjolras rolled his eyes. 

“My class is over here,” Enjolras said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Enjolras, just wait a second!” Combeferre exclaimed.

But Enjolras just kept walking, right through the door and into his class, hoping — no —  _ praying  _ that Grantaire wouldn’t be there that morning. His eyes scanned the sea of his classmates and he found Eponine who was flipping someone off and — Enjolras sighed heavily — it was, as expected, Grantaire. 

Enjolras frowned and looked for a seat at the front of the classroom to get the best class experience possible as per usual, but then his hand flew to cover the hickey on his neck and he decided against sitting right where the professor could see him. He sat a few rows back from the front, all the way to the left of the room. 

Enjolras longed, constantly, throughout the lecture to look over his shoulder and look at Grantaire. But that would be  _ weird  _ and Grantaire would probably  _ notice,  _ Enjolras had to keep reminding himself of that. 

He didn’t pay attention to a word the professor said throughout the lecture, which was entirely unlike him, and when class was dismissed he was all too happy to get as far away from Grantaire as he could. He hurried down the hallway toward Joly when someone behind him called, “Enjolras!” urgently. 

He turned, eyebrows raised at Grantaire as he hurried toward him. Enjolras swallowed hard and hoped Grantaire wouldn’t notice it. “Yes?” he said.

Grantaire was a little breathless when he spoke. “Hey.”

“Um,” Enjolras said, “hi.” He was hot — really fucking hot. Oh god, was he  _ sweating?  _ He hoped not. 

“We — we need to talk — about last night,” Grantaire said, and Enjolras wanted to cry. 

“Okay? What about it?” Enjolras raised his eyebrows a little higher, trying to look confused, like he didn’t have a clue what Grantaire was talking about. Did that make him a terrible person? 

Yeah, it did. 

“  _ What about it?  _ ” Grantaire exclaimed in disbelief and Enjolras felt a pang of guilt in his chest. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Um, no.” Enjolras shook his head.

_ I hate myself.  _

“Sorry. I was really drunk this weekend. I don’t remember anything that’s happened since, like, nine o’clock on Saturday.” Enjolras said and that’s it, he was officially the worst person  _ ever.  _

Okay, maybe not  _ ever,  _ but it was definitely close.

“Oh,” was all Grantaire managed say. 

“Why? Did I do something stupid?” Enjolras asked. 

_ Yes, very stupid,  _ he kicked himself mentally.  _ So fucking stupid.  _

“Um, no.” Grantaire lied, presumably to save Enjolras the pain of knowing what an asshole he was and dear  _ god,  _ that just made Enjolras feel even  _ worse. _ “Sorry. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

“O-okay,” Enjolras said. “Bye?” he said, not sure if Grantaire would say anything else. 

“Bye!” Grantaire said and he quickly turned from Enjolras and ran away. 

Enjolras opened his mouth when Grantaire was halfway out of earshot, ready to shout after him that he was right, that they needed to talk, that Enjolras was an awful person and that he was so, so,  _ so sorry! _

But his words froze in his throat and didn’t make their way out and then Grantaire was gone. Enjolras turned to find that Joly was gone too and he sighed. 

***

Combeferre and Courfeyrac didn’t speak to Enjolras for two days after he told them what he’d done, and he couldn’t exactly blame them. But eventually, things went back to normal. Enjolras and Grantaire didn’t speak, Courfeyrac and Combeferre got over the whole thing, and life went on. 

Halloween was fast approaching and when Enjolras announced that he would attend the annual Halloween party at the Musain this year, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were more than a little surprised.

“I don’t know if that’s the  _ best  _ idea,” Combeferre said.    
  
“Why not?” Enjolras frowned.    
  
“Grantaire always goes to the Halloween party,” Courfeyrac frowned too.

“Oh, I — I thought that wouldn’t be something he would go to,” Enjolras sighed. “Well, I guess — I suppose that maybe, then, I shouldn’t —”

“Oh, just go,” Courfeyrac said. 

“Courfeyrac!” Combeferre cried. 

“It’ll be fine!” Courfeyrac said. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, right, Enj?”

“God, yes,” Enjolras said. 

“I don’t know,” Combeferre said slowly. 

“It’ll be fine,” Courfeyrac said decidedly. “Listen, Enjolras, just because you fucked up one time — and I say you fucked up one time, I mean you  _ seriously  _ fucked up  _ really badly  _ that one time — that doesn’t mean you can stop living your life and just not go anywhere that Grantaire happens to be, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to the Halloween party!”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Combeferre sighed. 

So when Halloween was upon them, Enjolras dressed himself up as a French revolutionary (and really, no one had expected anything else), Courfeyrac was “the scariest thing one can be on Halloween…  _ an outdated meme! _ ”, and Combeferre made the mistake of allowing Courfeyrac to choose his costume and found himself dressed as the Mad Hatter with a wig, a huge top hat, and full face makeup. 

“Just,” Combeferre stopped Enjolras before they walked into the Musain, “try not to go batshit crazy tonight, yeah? Try using common sense, you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Enjolras smiled, but he could have fooled anyone because he found himself drinking. 

“I used to be smart, you know,” he said aloud to the guy sitting next to him at the bar. “I used to have a plan and I didn’t care about anything that wasn’t relevant to that plan… And then you know what happened? You know what  _ fucking  _ happened? I met a boy. I mean, how pathetic is that?”

Montparnasse narrowed his eyes. “Enjolras, are you under the false impression that we’re friends now?”

Enjolras glared back at him. “No. Fuck off.” He downed the rest of his drink and slammed the glass back down on the bar then got up and walked away, wondering where else he could get a drink from, wondering where Joly’s sangria was, when he spotted  _ him.  _

“Hey, Grantaire,” Enjolras caught up to Grantaire. He looked him up and down, smiling in amusement at his robes and his lightning shaped scar drawn in Sharpie. “Nice costume,” and it was, even though Enjolras didn’t know very much about Harry Potter (he was almost positive that Grantaire was dressed as Harry Potter but he could very well be getting it mixed up with a different book), Grantaire was  _ hot.  _

_ He’s always hot,  _ Enjolras reminded himself, then he paused and sighed inwardly.  _ I am so royally fucked.  _

“Uh, thanks,” Grantaire said. “You — uh — I’m surprised to see you here. You don’t usually take part in Halloween, you know?”

“Yeah.” Enjolras said. “I thought I’d give it a go this year.”

“Well, that’s good.” Grantaire said. “Er, no offense, but what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a French Revolutionary!” Enjolras grinned. He really was very proud of his costume seeing as he wasn’t much of a Halloween type of person. He thought looked decent and it was accurate enough. 

_ But what does Grantaire think of it?  _ Enjolras wondered, immediately followed by,  _ No! Forget about that!  _

Grantaire snorted just a little bit but had the courtesy to cover it up as best he could. “Of course you are.”

“Have you gotten a drink yet?” Enjolras asked.

“No, I was just heading over to get one,” Grantaire said.

“Great, I’ll come with you,” Enjolras said as if he hadn’t already had about three — or maybe it was four? Or five? Jesus, he didn’t even know anymore. 

“Oh?” Grantaire said.

“Joly made sangria and he said it’s really good,” Enjolras told Grantaire while they headed that way. 

Enjolras felt good, he felt light as air. He was walking alongside Grantaire, things weren’t (too) awkward. Everything between them seemed to be clearing up and overall conversation was —

Oh, who was Enjolras trying to kid, everything was awkward as fuck, the tension between them could be cut with a knife, and the night was going to go to shit, but at least they were on their way across the room to get some alcohol!

“I’ve never really been one for sangria.” Grantaire told Enjolras. “Most of them just taste like liquid fruit salad with a little bit of wine poured over it it.”

“Well, Joly told me he puts a fuck ton of vodka in his sangria,” Enjolras said ( _ Please, I need all the vodka,  _ he thought to himself desperately.  _ I need to be so shitfaced I don’t remember any of this. _ ), “so I’m thinking it’ll have a pretty decent kick to it.”

“In that case, I guess I could try a little bit,” Grantaire laughed.

_ He’s got a nice laugh,  _ Enjolras sighed. It was going to be a long night. 

Enjolras was thinking that  _ maybe  _ he shouldn’t be having more to drink since he was, apparently, going to be spending the night with Grantaire. He could, of course, walk away at anytime. Either one of them could say a quick goodbye, make up a half assed excuse, and be done with them. But these were two boys who spent their days continuously fucking up, so the hope of that was small. 

Enjolras’ memory was blurred so he didn’t know how he got from drinking sangria to sitting in Grantaire’s lap in the middle of a party, but there he was, and a part of his brain was trying to get the message to the rest of the brain that this wasn’t something he would usually be doing nor was it something he  _ should  _ be doing. 

Enjolras was drunk, that was certain. He was pretty sure that he was too drunk to even stand on his own, but he wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t notice Courfeyrac and Combeferre in the middle of the room talking to Montparnasse. 

“Hey, Combeferre,” Montparnasse said, swaggering over to Combeferre and Courfeyrac. 

Combeferre, who looked just a little bit intimidated by Montparnasse, cleared his throat and replied, “Er — yes?”

“Some redhead over at the bar thinks you’re hot stuff.” Montparnasse cocked his head to one side, giving Combeferre a quick once over with a laugh. “For whatever reason,” he shrugged. 

“Are you  _ asking  _ to get slapped?” Courfeyrac crossed his arms. 

“Heel, boy,” Montparnasse rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come over to start any fights.” He held up a slip of paper between his fingertips. “She wanted you to have this.”

“What is it?” Combeferre furrowed his brow. 

“Her number, dumbass,” Montparnasse huffed. 

“Oh,” Combeferre said while Courfeyrac was looking stoked at his side. “Well, I — uh — I’m flattered, really, but — but I’m not interested.”

“ _ What?! _ ” Courfeyrac exclaimed. “‘Ferre, this is your shot! You’ve got to get out there, dude! Don’t hold back!”

“I — really, I’m fine,” Combeferre shook his head. “I’m not interested. You should go and get her, Montparnasse.”

“Are you fucking crazy, man?” Montparnasse raised his eyebrows. “Guy like you, opportunity like this doesn’t come knocking too often.”

“I’m — not — interested,” Combeferre huffed. “I don’t know how many times you need me to tell you. I don’t want the number.”

“Well, why not?” Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows at Combeferre. 

Combeferre slowly turned to looked at him. “You’re joking, right? You don’t  _ actually mean that,  _ right?”

“No, I mean it,” Courfeyrac placed his hands firmly on his hips. “ _ Why  _ don’t you want to go out with her?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Combeferre shook his head.    
  
“No,  _ you’re  _ the one who’s fucking —” Courfeyrac was interrupted when Combeferre grabbed onto the front of his suit jacket and yanked him in for a kiss. 

Courfeyrac was still for a moment while Combeferre kissed him sweetly, arms frozen in midair, and Enjolras held his breath as he watched, terrified Courfeyrac would be an idiot and push Combeferre away. But then Courfeyrac ripped the top hat off of Combeferre’s head and grabbed onto him, positively  _ attacking  _ his mouth. 

“Yes,” Enjolras breathed out happily.

“Finally! Finally!” Jehan was shouting. “Fucking  _ finally! _ ”

“Come on,” Grantaire said a while later, getting Enjolras to his feet and leading him toward the exit. “I’m taking you back to your dorm.”

“Oh?” Enjolras smirked, and that was it, he was too drunk, and he was going to make a huge mistake…  _ again.  _ He could already see it coming, and there was no avoiding it. 

“Yeah,” Grantaire said.

Maybe Grantaire had changed his mind, though. Maybe he wanted Enjolras too. 

_ Wishful thinking,  _ Enjolras told himself. 

“Do you have the key?” Grantaire asked when they reached the door to the dorm room.

“Mhm,” Enjolras nodded, fumbling with the contents of his pants pockets for several moments before supplying the little silver key. He made to try unlocking the door himself, but Grantaire quickly grabbed the key out of his hand and did it for him.

“Thanks,” Enjolras smiled, a little relieved. Usually he’d fight, he’d bicker and he’d argue that he could still do everything for himself, but he was too drunk and he had resigned himself to the truth. He couldn’t do anything for himself. He wasn’t sure he could  _ anything  _ for himself these days, drunk or sober, without screwing up.

“Okay, come on,” Grantaire said when they were inside the room with the door closed behind them. “You should sleep.”

“No, I want you to —”

_ Don’t go there, Enjolras, don’t you fucking dare. _

“Not while you’re drunk, Enjolras,” Grantaire said.

“You did it a few weeks ago while I was drunk!” Enjolras protested.

_ Oh, great. You went there  _ and  _ now he knows you lied to him about not remembering that night! _

“Okay, well I was drunk t— wait a second,” Grantaire said slowly. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at him, pointing an accusing finger. “You told me you didn’t  _ remember  _ what happened that night!”

“I lied!” Enjolras admitted.

“  _ Enjolras!  _ ” Grantaire exclaimed and Enjolras felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of the hurt look on Grantaire face.

“Pleeeeeease?” Enjolras stuck his bottom lip out into a pout. He placed his hands on Grantaire’s hips and fell to his knees, looking up at him. 

He couldn’t say he didn’t like the feeling of being there, kneeling at Grantaire’s feet and practically groveling. Grantaire could just  _ grab _ him. Enjolras was so out of control and he’d been struggling with lack of control for weeks now, ever since thoughts of Grantaire had  _ completely  _ taken over, but this wasn’t like that. This feeling  wasn’t drowning him, it was wrapped around him, holding onto him tightly and wriggling its way into every fiber of his being and it felt incredible. 

“This could be a thing, you know?” Enjolras said. “Just sex.”  _ Even though I want to love you. _ “Just stress relief.”  _ Even though I want you to love me to. Even though it’s not just sex for me because I want to hold onto you every day of my life and get to call you mine. _ “Grantaire, I won’t regret —”

“Okay, stop.” Grantaire said and he  _ did  _ grab onto Enjolras, but only to pull him to his feet. “Just stop, okay? Listen to me.”

Enjolras frowned.

“I’ll fuck you when you ask, okay?” Grantaire said and, okay, Enjolras was  _ not  _ expecting that. “  _ If  _ you ask. But only when you’re sober.”

“  _ Grantaaaaaaire,  _ ” Enjolras whined. That was plainly unfair. He would never be brave enough to ask Grantaire to fuck him while he was sober. 

Then again, he supposed that was rather the point.

“No,” Grantaire said. He shook his head and Enjolras couldn’t see any way to get around this ultimatum. “That’s it. That’s my final answer. When you’re sober, or not at all.”

Enjolras stared at him for a long time, then he laughed a bitter laugh. Maybe that wasn’t the way he wanted to go with this, maybe it’s not how he should be responding to Grantaire right now, but there it was. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he said even though his brain told him not to, even though he regretted it immediately afterward. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my very many flaws,” Grantaire said like he’d barely paid attention. “Come on, take your shoes off and get in bed.”

“‘M not tired,” Enjolras rolled his eyes, even though he was. He dropped down onto his bed. He ripped his shoes off, he dragged his red vest off, and threw everything onto the floor. 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Apollo,” Grantaire said while Enjolras laid back against the pillows. Grantaire pulled the blankets over Enjolras and tucked him in. 

_ Why does he call me that?  _ Enjolras wondered.

“Do you need anything else before I go?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras considered this, and because he supposed he hadn’t used quite enough bad judgement that night he asked his burning question aloud, “Why do you call me Apollo?”

“Still not telling,” Grantaire said with a tiny little smirk. Then he did just about the last thing Enjolras would have guessed he would do next: he leaned over the bed and kissed Enjolras in the middle of his forehead. “Goodnight.” He whispered. 

Enjolras’ face turned warm and he wanted to do a million things. He wanted to kiss him back, he wanted to insist to know where the nickname ‘Apollo’ had come from, he wanted to tell Grantaire that he loved him more than anything else because hey, what was one more monumental mistake, right? 

But he was so tired.

He hummed a little before his eyelids grew too heavy to hold up a second longer and he simply said. “‘Night,” and then he heard a door open and close and he didn’t remember anything more of the night after that.

***

Enjolras woke to find that, out of the corner of his eyes, he could see two bodies in the bed on the other side of the room instead of one. He was almost certain that he would sit up to see Combeferre and Courfeyrac  _ very  _ naked, but he sat up to find them fully clothed and fast asleep. 

He tiptoed around the room, dressing quietly and sneaking out of the room. He wasn’t ready to deal with telling his best friends what had happened the night before. Especially after Combeferre had warned him so many times to be careful and not get too drunk. 

It used to be Grantaire who they had to worry about. It was Grantaire who would go out and get drunk off his ass and make stupid decisions. 

Enjolras didn’t have class that day until later in the morning, but Grantaire did. Eponine had mentioned it at some time or another, and Enjolras was pretty sure he was already in class. He thought that maybe he could catch him in between classes. 

“I shouldn’t,” he told himself aloud, even though he was already walking toward the lecture hall. “I’ve made things bad enough as it is. I should just leave him alone,” he said but he didn’t stop or turn around, he just kept walking toward the lecture hall. 

He spotted Grantaire easily among the crowd. 

_ This is stupid. Go back to your dorm, go back, go back, go  _ —

"Can we talk?" Enjolras asked, and he was more than a little desperate for Grantaire to agree. 

"Yeah," Grantaire said. "I think that's probably a good idea."

Enjolras almost breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." He walked into the first vacant room that he could find and Grantaire followed closely behind him, closing the door behind the both of them.

"I am," Enjolras began slowly, took a deep breath, then went on, "  _ so  _ incredibly sorry. I can't even began to properly apologize, I just — I can't believe I —"

"Don't worry about it," Grantaire said, shaking his head. "Seriously, it was no big deal."

"But it was." Enjolras said because  _ really  _ it was.

"No, it wasn't." Grantaire shook his head. "I'm telling you, don't give it a second thought. It's over,” he said and Enjolras thought that that would be the end of it, but they stood in awkward silence for awhile and just as Enjolras was getting ready to say that he was going to just go, Grantaire asked, "Was I right?"

"What do you mean?" Enjolras questioned.

"Sorry," Grantaire said. "You don't have to answer that. I just meant, was I right to think you'd regret having sex with me when you were sober?"

Enjolras’ face turned bright red. He considered the question. 

On one hand, yes, Grantaire was right. If Enjolras had woken up the morning of November first and remembered a night before where he and Grantaire had had sex, he would have felt guilty and he would have cursed himself for fucking up so badly  _ again.  _ (Then again, that’s exactly how he was feeling anyway and he  _ hadn’t  _ slept with Grantaire, so what was the difference, really?)

The truth was that he wouldn’t have regretted sleeping with Grantaire any more or less than he regretted hurting him. He wouldn’t have regretted it for the reasons Grantaire thought he would, he wouldn’t have regretted it because he didn’t want sex with Grantaire.

He wanted every bit of Grantaire he could get. 

But now he was faced with a new problem. Grantaire wanted an answer and Enjolras had decided what to tell him; should he lie or tell the truth? And overall, what was the truth and what was a lie?

"No.” Enjolras sighed, already second guessing himself. Maybe he should have lied, it would have been more humane to lie. “No, you weren’t right."

Grantaire tilted his head and looked at Enjolras curiously, unsure. "Really?"

"Really." Enjolras nodded. 

He wanted to ask about the promise Grantaire had made the night before, but he thought that perhaps that was pushing his luck. 

Then again, he’d already screwed up so much between him and Grantaire. 

Enjolras threw caution to the wind. "Were you being honest when you said you'd fuck me if I asked when I'm sober? You don't have to answer  _ that  _ , by the way." He swore he spotted a little bit of pink in Grantaire’s cheeks. 

"Do you want me to be serious?" Grantaire asked.

How was Enjolras even supposed to respond to that? What kind of answer was that?

Enjolras sighed and shook his head. "Never mind."

It was stupid to ask, anyway.

"Please," Grantaire said. "Answer this question. Do you want me to be serious?"

Enjolras looked at Grantaire for a long time. God,  _ yes,  _ he did. He should lie, though.

"Yes. I do."

Oh, well. 

The thing was, Grantaire only wanted sex with Enjolras, and Enjolras wanted a loving and fulfilling relationship with Grantaire. There was no way it could work out for the better.

But Enjolras was lost at this point. He didn’t know when he should be lying, when he should be truthful, when to just walk away. He definitely didn’t know when to stop drinking or when to shut the hell up.

"Yes," Grantaire said. "Yes, I was serious."

Enjolras was taken aback. "Really?"

Grantaire smiled. "Really." He nodded.

"Oh," Enjolras said, "okay. So, how does that work?"

_ Good. Good question. Great fucking job.  _

But in his defense, Enjolras’ brain wasn’t working quite fast enough. Was Enjolras hearing correctly? Grantaire had been  _ serious?  _ The news felt surreal, too good to be true. 

"I told you," Grantaire said. "Just ask. But you've got to be sober."

"Okay," Enjolras said. 

_ What do I say now?  _ Enjolras wondered desperately.  _ How the hell do I end this shit show of a conversation?  _

"Well,” he said, hoping the words would find him,  “I'll be in touch?"

_ Kill yourself, Enjolras. Kill yourself.  _

"Okay," Grantaire said with a weird look in his eyes. 

They stared at one another awkwardly for a moment or two, then Grantaire turned and left without another word. 

“What the fuck did I just do?” Enjolras ran his fingers through his hair. “That was so fucking dumb.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time on his screen. He had class in thirty minutes and for a second he considered skipping and going to vent to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, but then he remembered they’d just yell at him and he had a test coming up in a few weeks, so he headed to his classroom and did his best to push all thoughts of Grantaire out of his mind. 

***

Enjolras thought about it a lot for a few days (it, of course, here referring to this new arrangement with Grantaire).

On the first night of November he told Combeferre and Courfeyrac about what had happened between him and Grantaire on Halloween night, and they’d been naive enough to think that — horrible as it was — that was as bad as it was going to get. But then Enjolras told them about the conversation he had had with Grantaire earlier that same day and they were positively aghast. 

“Enjolras! You can’t sleep with him!” Courfeyrac yelled. 

“Well, why not?!” Enjolras shouted back. “Maybe something will come of all of this. Maybe I can finally get what I’ve wanted for so long now.”

“So you’ll sleep with him and then you’ll hate him for sleeping with you and hate yourself for doing it?” Combeferre frowned. He crossed his arms and fixed Enjolras with a gaze that just may have pierced his very soul.

Enjolras looked back at him for a while before nodding. “Yes.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how  _ stupid  _ you are,” Courfeyrac shook his head slowly. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Enjolras sighed. “I already know.”

“Well maybe you could, you know, try and do something about it?” Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows. “Stop being so stupid all the time?”

“Where did all of this come from, anyway?” Combeferre asked. “You used to be a smart guy, then all of a sudden you came back to school this year and you’re having all of these terrible lapses in judgement.”

“It’s just  _ him, _ ” Enjolras groaned, collapsing back against his pillows. “He’s just —  _ ugh!  _ — infuriating. He’s just so… I can’t stop thinking about him no matter how hard I try, and I — I just — ugh.” 

“Well, try a little harder, won’t you?” Courfeyrac sighed. 

“Aw, come on, Courf,” Combeferre smiled and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “Don’t you understand how he feels just a little bit?”

“Yeah, but we were smart about and just got together,” Courfeyrac raised one eyebrow. 

“Excuse me, no!” Enjolras exclaimed. “You did not ‘ _ just get together _ ’! It took you over two fucking years! I have suffered through your oblivious flirting for two fucking years!” 

Courfeyrac laughed. “Yeah, true.”

“Worth it,” Combeferre smiled and kissed Courfeyrac. 

“You two are disgusting, you make me sick,” Enjolras said. “I love it.”

The next night, Combeferre and and Courfeyrac were out late and eventually texted Enjolras to tell him that they were going to spend the night in Courfeyrac’s dorm room. 

Enjolras was laying in his bed, all alone, no one around to stop him from doing something outrageously dumb. So he picked up his phone and held it above his face and stared at Grantaire’s name in his contacts list for way longer than was strictly considered normal.

He typed:  _ Are you busy?  _

He quickly deleted that and instead wrote:  _ Can I pay you a visit? _

Again he deleted what he’d written and tried again:  _ Mind if I pay you visit?  _

But yet again he backspaced, this time turning off his phone screen and slamming it down at his side against the mattress. He stared up at the ceiling with a fixed glare for a while before picking up his phone once more. 

He stared, determined, at the blank text box for several minutes before aggressively typing,  _ Wanna fuck ??,  _ with an angry growl. He immediately deleted that too and flung his phone across the room.

He rolled onto his side and pulled the covers up to his chin. He reached over to his bedside table to turn the lamp off and he closed his eyes, but sleep did not come for so long that he was just about to give up and get some studying done when he suddenly found himself waking from a restless slumber. 

Enjolras dragged himself out of bed, found his phone lying on the floor. He picked up his phone, half hoping that by some weird chance Grantaire had texted him something —  _ anything  _ — while he was asleep, but alas, nothing. 

It occurred to him that in the now forty eight hours since he and Grantaire discussed Halloween night and what had been said, they hadn’t seen each other or spoken on the phone or even texted one another. It shouldn’t have seemed odd as Grantaire and Enjolras frequently went days or even weeks with exchanging so much as a few words, because they just weren’t close like that, but now it just seemed strange. 

Which, again, it  _ shouldn’t.  _ They weren’t dating, they were (maybe) going to fuck in the (possibly) near future. 

Enjolras’ phone began to ring in his hand and his heart skipped a beat, but it was only Courfeyrac. 

“Hey,” he answered shortly. 

“Combeferre is seriously the best fuck of my life.”

“That’s serious.”

“I know, right?” Courfeyrac said and Enjolras could hear Combeferre chuckling in the background. “Like I’ve fucked a whole lot of dudes in my life — ‘Ferre, cover your ears, baby — but  _ oh my god,  _ his dick is incredible!”   
  


“ _ Courf! _ ” Combeferre yelled.

“I speak the truth and only the truth!” Courfeyrac shouted defensively. “Hey, Enjolras, I’ve changed my mind on this whole Grantaire thing because you need to get  _ laid,  _ my guy.”

Enjolras laughed. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

Enjolras brushed away the thought. It was too soon. He and Grantaire needed to talk about how far this was going to go, but hours and hours later Courfeyrac and Combeferre were still somewhere, all alone, and Enjolras was all by himself with a million and one thoughts running round and round in his head and it was driving him to a point of madness. 

He turned his screen on to check the time and groaned. It was already past eleven at night. Grantaire could be sleeping by now or doing homework. Either way, he probably wouldn’t be glad to have an unannounced visitor this close to midnight.

Yes, Enjolras was considering paying Grantaire a nighttime visit when he had specifically told himself earlier that very same day he wouldn’t. He told himself that he and Grantaire needed to talk this out before they dove in. He told himself that he wouldn’t give in and go to Grantaire’s dorm… 

But there he was. He had knocked, there was no going back now. There was no way out of this now. 

Unless he ran, of course. And  _ there  _ was a grand idea. 

Run. Run fast. Run quickly before Grantaire could —

Grantaire opened the door, looking Enjolras up and down, and then with just a hint of a smirk he placed his hands on his hips and asked, “Are you here to take me up on my offer, then?”

Enjolras could feel his cheeks heating up. “Maybe.”

Grantaire’s features softened. He smiled warmly and stepped back, leaving room for Enjolras to enter. “Come in.”

Enjolras complied and Grantaire closed the door behind him and locked it. “So,” Enjolras said slowly, so unsure of how to go about this, so uncertain that he should even be going about this at all, “uh, how does — how does this work?”

“However you want it to,” Grantaire said simply and Enjolras wanted to roll his eyes because that was so not enough information for him. “I told you, all you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Okay,” Enjolras said. “I just — I’m really stressed right now. I don’t know. Is that wrong? That I want to have sex for stress relief?” Even though he really wanted so much more. “Does that, like, make me a terrible person?”

_ Oh, yeah,  _ he thought to himself sarcastically,  _ what a  _ great cover up!  _ He’ll never ever guess that you’re really in love with him. Thumbs up! _

“Because you want sex?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows. “Dude, it’s the twenty first century. People have sex for less of a reason than that all the time.”

“I don’t,” Enjolras said. 

_ I don’t want to, either. I want more.  _

“I know.”

_ But I’m too afraid to ask for it.  _

“But you do?” Enjolras asked curiously.

“Sometimes,” Grantaire shrugged his shoulders and Enjolras didn’t know how that was supposed to make him feel. He definitely felt a small twinge of jealousy, but there was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“I don’t get it,” Enjolras said. “I mean, obviously I don’t have a problem with other people doing it, and obviously I — I mean, I’m here, aren’t I? But I don’t understand how people do it, I don’t get how it works.”

He could hear Courfeyrac’s voice in his head telling him to get laid and it was intertwined with Combeferre’s voice that was telling to be careful and use common sense and not do stupid things but then that was drowned Grantaire saying, “I’ll help you.”

Enjolras let his head fall slightly to the side. 

Grantaire placed his hands on Enjolras’ hips and guided him closer. “Want to lay down?”

Enjolras gulped nervously but nodded his head.

Grantaire let go of his hips and watched him walked over to the bed and lay down slowly. He followed him then, swinging one leg over his body so that he was perched atop his hips. Wordlessly, he began to undo the buttons of Enjolras’ shirt and he pulled the garment off of him, discarding it onto the floor.

“Now,” Grantaire said and Enjolras was all too aware of Grantaire’s fingers brushing over the zipper of his jeans, “what would you like me to do for you, Apollo?”

Enjolras paused in his thoughts of all the things he could have Grantaire do to him; all the answers he could give; all the things he could ask for. Instead, he took a moment to ask for what felt like the hundredth time, “Why do you call me Apollo?”

Grantaire chuckled and smile a little bit. “Why do you keep asking me that?” he questioned with one eyebrow quirked upward.

“I want to know,” Enjolras said.

“Oh,” Grantaire nodded and his little smile turned into a smirk. He leaned over and kissed all over Enjolras’ cheeks. “We cannot know his legendary head with eyes like ripening fruit,” he said poetically, as if that was supposed to answer Enjolras’ question. 

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said, because contrary to what Grantaire might believe, that wasn’t an answer at all. 

Grantaire shooshed Enjolras and he kissed along Enjolras’ jaw, down his neck, making something flutter in Enjolras’ belly. Grantaire’s kisses were wet and open down Enjolras’ chest. He spoke again, in the voice of a poet, “And yet his torso is still suffused with brilliance from inside, like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low, gleams in all its power.”

“Grantaire, what are you doing?” Enjolras asked because as nice as it was to have Grantaire reciting poetry to him while kissing his way down his body, he was kind of lost as to why he was doing it. 

“Otherwise the curved breast could not dazzle you so,” he said just before his sucked a peaked nipple in between his teeth and bit down gently.

Enjolras gasped, high pitched and loud, something he hadn’t known until that moment that anyone could draw out of him. 

Grantaire bit his way down Enjolras’ torso, then licked and kissed over them until he found himself at Enjolras’ waist.

With a smirk that Enjolras didn’t think would ever go away, Grantaire pulled the zipper down slowly. He undid the button and peeled the tight jeans off of Enjolras. Grantaire’s fingers slipped into Enjolras’ boxers and Enjolras’ breath hitched just a little bit. 

Grantaire went on, “Nor could a smile run through the placid hips and thighs,” he said as he yanked the boxers down and tossed them on top of the recently discarded trousers, then he laid back down on his stomach in between Enjolras’ legs and nuzzled his nose along his dick, “to that dark center where procreation flared.”

Enjolras looked down at Grantaire through hooded eyes. He could feel his face growing hotter and hotter with every passing moment. He had his mouth open, ready to say something should anything come to mind, but nothing was coming. He was so consumed by the feeling of Grantaire’s breath on him, his mouth so close to him. 

Grantaire smiled at him, looked him dead in the eye, and then swallowed Enjolras right down to the hilt. Enjolras moaned again, loudly,  _ sharply. _

Enjolras breathed deeply while Grantaire jerked him slowly, much too slowly for him to get anywhere.

Enjolras reached down and pulled on Grantaire’s hair, hoping he was getting the message across, loud and clear:  _ Get a move on. Hurry the fuck up. _

But if Grantaire got the message, he didn’t care. He kept right on with that  _ poem  _ of his.

“Otherwise this stone would seem defaced beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders, and would not glisten like a wild beast’s fur: would not, form all the borders of itself, burst like a star: for here there is no place that does not see you.”

Grantaire stopped then, for a moment he halted all movement completely. Enjolras watched him tilt his head and circle his thumb around and around the head. Grantaire dropped his hand down the shaft then, moving a little faster than before, bringing Enjolras closer and closer.

“You must change your life,” Grantaire said and he sounded like he was done now. He kissed Enjolras’ cock. It was so intimate, so much sweeter than it should have been. Enjolras wanted to question Grantaire’s intentions in their relationship but he couldn’t quite form a coherent sentence at the moment. 

“What — the fuck — oh, good  _ god  _ , Grantaire — was that?” He did his best, but the words weren’t coming to him. 

“Archaic Torso of Apollo,” Grantaire said as he started to move his hand again, “by Rainer Maria Rilke.”

Enjolras wondered whether Grantaire thought that was really the answer Enjolras was looking for or of the man was just thick.

“Okay, but  _ why?  _ ” Enjolras huffed out. 

“You asked me why I call you Apollo,” Grantaire said, speaking in another tone that told Enjolras he actually thought he’d given a legitimate answer. 

“That — that doesn’t answer my question,” Enjolras said, trying to catch his breath. 

“Never mind,” Grantaire said and before Enjolras could push the matter, he sucked Enjolras back into his mouth, sliding his mouth downward/ 

“Gran—  _ oh, holy fuck!  _ ” Enjolras cried when Grantaire sucked hard, cheeks hollowing against him.

Grantaire started to bob his head and that was really the final straw. Enjolras lost it, tugging sharply on Grantaire’s hair and whining and  _ moaning. _

“You need — oh, shit — you need to — if you don’t want me to — oh, Grantaire —”

Grantaire wrapped his lips tightly around the tip and hummed, presumably to tell Enjolras that he was just fine where he was and to go right ahead.

Enjolras wanted to push the matter — just as he always did, with everything he was ever involved in. He wanted to make sure that he understand what Grantaire meant, wanted to ask him if he was absolutely sure, but before he got the chance he was too far gone, he was coming down Grantaire’s throat and Grantaire was swallowing around him.

“Oh my god,” Enjolras breathed heavily, head spinning, still not sure how to form a sentence. “Oh my  _ god.  _ I can’t — I — that was —”

“Better when you’re sober, right?” Grantaire grinned as he crawled up to collapse beside Enjolras.

“Yeah,” Enjolras nodded with a grin because fucking  _ yes,  _ it was so much better when he was so much more aware of every little thing that Grantaire was doing to him. He could  _ feel everything _ . “Oh, yeah. Oh, holy shit, that was amazing.” It was more than amazing. He couldn’t find the right words to describe it — to describe what Grantaire did to him.

Grantaire grinned, too, and he looked sort of proud of himself. “Good, good. I aim to please.”

“I — oh my god — okay, just give me — give me one minute,” Enjolras said.

“To do what?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras looked at him as if he were stupid. “I have to — well — you know.” He gestured to the Grantaire’s tented sweatpants.

“Don’t worry about it, you can go back to your dorm,” Grantaire shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t need to —”

“I want to,” Enjolras said because he  _ did,  _ so badly. He eagerly yanked down Grantaire’s sweatpants and his boxers. “I really want to,” he whispered and he curled his fingers around Grantaire’s cock, smearing the precome dripping from the slit with his thumb and stroking him fast. The angle was awkward, but he drew these little groans from Grantaire that were low and dirty but the only word Enjolras could find inside of his mind, in the depths of his thoughts swimming around and around and around, to accurately describe the sounds coming from Grantaire’s mouth was  _ precious. _

Grantaire buried his face in the crook of Enjolras’ neck with his mouth open. Enjolras twisted his wrist just so as he stroked a little faster and Grantaire whined. He  _ whined.  _

Enjolras choked back a sob and hoped Grantaire wouldn’t notice. He couldn’t help it. He was so desperate to have this man even closer than he already had him. Maybe that was greedy but he didn’t care, he wanted more, he wanted as much as Grantaire would give him. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that this was all real after the months he’d been longing for Grantaire to be this close, because if he let himself believe this dream come true and then he woke up, he didn’t know if he would recover.

Grantaire’s release spilled all over Enjolras’ fist so Enjolras reached to the floor and grabbed his own shirt to clean them both up. “Thank you,” he said to Grantaire when he was finished, tossing the shirt away again.

Grantaire smiled. “Thank  _ you.  _ ”

“So is this, like,” Enjolras said tentatively, “something you might want to do again? Are you still for this being, you know, a thing?”

Grantaire smiled again. “I am if you are.”

“Good,” Enjolras said and kissed Grantaire’s chin.

_ Please don’t let this all be a dream.  _

***

“I just — I can’t believe you’re really doing this,” Combeferre sighed when Enjolras told them all about his midnight endeavor the following morning.

Courfeyrac, who was using his boyfriend’s lap as a pillow, sighed and said, “I can.”

Combeferre looked down at Courfeyrac, eyebrows raised, and said, “You can?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why you’re so shocked,” Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders. “Enjolras is like the master of bad decision making lately. You should have known he was going to go through with this.”

“You know, I could just  _ not  _ tell you two about all of this if all you’re going to do is judge and torment me without actually giving me sound advice,” Enjolras narrowed his eyes at his two best friends. 

“By all means, keep it to yourself,” Combeferre said. “I do not need to know what you do to Grantaire’s dick. Seriously. I’ll survive without your stories.”

“Okay, first thing’s first. ‘Ferre, shut up, because  _ I  _ want to hear the stories,” Courfeyrac said. “Second, Enjolras, we  _ have  _ given you sound advice. We’ve told you to talk to him, to tell you how you really feel about him. You just don’t listen.”

“Well, I can’t just tell tell him I love him!” Enjolras exclaimed as if that were obvious. 

“Oh, right, of course.” Combeferre nodded. “It’s much easier to lie to him about the kind of relationship you really want with him.” He rolled his eyes.

Enjolras didn’t answer. He just sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. 

***

It was a couple days before Enjolras showed at Grantaire’s dorm in the middle of the night again, and then another few before he did a third time, and don’t take this the wrong way because those times were good — so  _ fucking  _ good. 

But the fourth time…  _ oh,  _ the  _ fourth  _ time… 

Grantaire was fucking him. Like  _ really  _ fucking him. The sort of sex were Enjolras literally couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence just in his head and he was just moaning wantonly. Grantaire had Enjolras’ wrists crisscrossed and pinned over his head.

Enjolras tugged at his wrists instinctively and Grantaire’s pushed down on them a little more firmly, fucked Enjolras into the mattress a little harder. 

Enjolras couldn’t quite pinpoint just what it was but being held down just did  _ something  _ for him and when he came he saw stars.

As he was laying there, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath, he thought that maybe it was just something he liked that he’d never considered before — being restrained. What it was that did it for him, he wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that he wanted to try it again. 

That, of course, posed an issue. Enjolras could barely talk about sex without going beet red, so how was he supposed to casually mention to Grantaire that he might want to be held down and  _ maybe  _ tied up.

He froze suddenly and his heart skipped a beat. 

_ Where  _ had that thought come from, he wondered to himself frightfully. Being held down was one thing, but being tied up? That was a whole different story. Just the idea of it, though, made butterflies flutter in Enjolras’ belly. 

The idea of it almost got him hard again. He was always working so hard to make every single little thing perfect and to just  _ let go  _ for a little while — it sounded  _ amazing. _

“What’s going on inside that head of yours?” Grantaire asked. He carded his fingers through Enjolras’ blond locks. 

  
“Nothing.” Enjolras shook his head. Grantaire didn’t look at all convinced. Enjolras’ voice was hoarse and his throat was sore, but he smiled contently. 

He tried to brush the thought but it was all that he was able to think about over the next twenty four hours. He returned to his dorm after his classes the next day, laid in bed and just thought about it. Just laid there and thought, what if Grantaire  _ did  _ tie him up?   
  
When he found himself unconsciously dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, he sat straight up and leapt out of bed. He strode out the door without so much as leaving a note or sending a text to let Courfeyrac and Combeferre know that he was going out. (Not that he really wanted to alert them, anyway. It’s not like they wouldn’t figure out where he was headed in a second.)

He did wonder, however, while he was on his way to Grantaire’s dorm if he should wait to discuss the whole  _ bondage  _ thing with him. Maybe he should talk to Courfeyrac about it first? Talking to Combeferre was out of the question, he would just scold Enjolras about the kind of relationship he was engaging in with Grantaire when he really wanted more  _ again  _ and then he’d blush when the word bondage came into the mix. But Courfeyrac would undoubtedly have some information to give him in regards to the proper rules and etiquette that came along with bondage. 

He should at least make a Google search or  _ something.  _ He was perfectly aware that he was high uneducated on the subject, but he was knocking on Grantaire’s door and there was no turning back now. 

Grantaire opened the door and Enjolras just strode in, sat down on the bed and said, “I want you to tie me up.”

Grantaire choked. “  _ Excuse me?!  _ ”

“I want you to tie me up,” Enjolras repeated and yeah, this was a bad idea. He should have researched this stuff, he should have eased Grantaire into it a little more. “And fuck me. At the same time.” Why did he finish that thought? 

Grantaire blinked slowly. “You want to try  _ bondage?  _ ”

“Yes.” 

“Enjolras, aren’t I like one of two people you’ve had sex with ever?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows at Enjolras.

“  _ Three,  _ ” Enjolras grumbled, but he was mentally counting; Grantaire, Bossuet that one time in the first year of university (they didn’t talk about it), and someone else — he  _ knew  _ there was someone else.

“Oh,  _ okay!  _ Well, I guess it’s okay, then.” Grantaire nodded.

“What does that matter?” Enjolras glared, but in his head he exclaimed with glee because he remembered that there was some girl in high school who he’d slept with (then he realized he was gay). 

“I mean, I guess it doesn’t,” Grantaire shrugged his shoulders. “But you go all red if I so much as  _ look  _ at you a little suggestively, and you want me to actually tie you to a bed and fuck you? While you’re  _ tied up?  _ ”

_ He’s got a point,  _ said one side of Enjolras’ brain. 

_ Fuck off,  _ said the other.

“Yes,” Enjolras nodded. “Look, if you don’t want to do it I won’t hold it against you or anything. I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Grantaire shrugged again. “It wouldn’t be the first time, anyway. You’ve just never struck me as the kind of person who’d want to try bondage. You also don’t strike me as the kind of person to be comfortable  _ asking  _ to try bondage if you did want to try it.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Enjolras said and he could feel his cheeks heating up a little bit. He hoped that Grantaire wouldn’t notice. “I suppose you’re kind of right. I don’t, like I’ve told you before. I just want to try and be normal for a little while. Try new things. And I guess I’ve gotten pretty comfortable with you lately, what with, you know —”

“Aw, you’re comfortable enough with me to talk about bondage?” Grantaire said in a snarky sort of coo, but his eyes betrayed him because he looked genuinely touched. “What was it? My boyish charm? The fact that I fucked you into this very matress so hard you couldn’t remember your own name?”

Enjolras wanted to roll his eyes but instead he crossed his arms and asked, “Wait, so you’ve tied people up before?” 

“Yeah,” Grantaire said as if it were no big deal (which, Enjolras supposed, for Grantaire it  _ wasn’t  _ a very big deal at all). “Tied up, been tied up.”

“Oh, wow,” Enjolras said. “So how do we st—”

“We don’t,” Grantaire shook his head and Enjolras opened his mouth to question him, but Grantaire smiled and said, “Not yet. We have to talk about it first. We need to make sure nothing’s going to go wrong.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said slowly, trying his best to hide his disappointment, but he supposed this was fair. They would just talk, Enjolras would learn more about how this whole thing worked, and then they’d both be perfectly safe in the whole endeavor. “So I think we —”

“Not right now,” Grantaire said and Enjolras didn’t care about displaying his disappointment (or his impatience) anymore. He huffed in exaserpation and Grantaire had the  _ audacity  _ to chuckle. 

“This isn’t something you want to rush.” Grantaire told him. “How about I take you out for coffee tomorrow morning? We can talk about everything then.”

“You want to talk about this in  _ public?  _ ” Enjolras’ eyebrows shot way up. He  _ couldn’t  _ be serious, could he?

“We’ll go to a nice, quiet little coffee shop,” Grantaire assured him but Enjolras still wasn’t too sure about this idea. “We’ll sit in the corner, and we’ll just talk it all through.”

“Okay,” Enjolras nodded. “Okay, that sounds alright.” It did  _ not,  _ in fact, sound “alright” but he was desperate for any time he got to spend with Grantaire.

“Good,” Grantaire nodded too. “I’ll come by around nine?”

Enjolras smiled. He couldn’t wait. “Okay. I’ll see you then.” He stood up.

“Can’t wait,” Grantaire said and Enjolras’ heart skipped a beat.

Enjolras moved across the room. With one hand on the doorknob, he looked back at Grantaire over his shoulder and dared to wink. “It’s a date,” he said before he could stop himself.

Grantaire didn’t answer him but Enjolras swore when he got out into the hall he heard Grantaire say, “Yeah… a date.”

Enjolras leaned against the wall and sighed. It had been incredibly stupid of him (and by “it”, I mean the entirety of the conversation he had just had), but he couldn’t help himself — he smiled.

***

“Should I wear this one? Or this one?” Enjolras asked, holding up two different black shirts in front of his body.

“I don’t know, I swear they’re the same shirt,” Combeferre sighed. 

“They’re not,” Enjolras and Courfeyrac said at the same time. 

“Where the one that’s grey on the inside,” Courfeyrac told Enjolras.

“What does it matter what color it is on the inside?!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. “You don’t see the inside of the shirt, you only see the outside!”

“Not when you fold the cuffs up,” Enjolras said, “like so.”

“Why are you encouraging this, anyway?” Combeferre snapped at Courfeyrac. “You both know this isn’t actually a date, right? You both realize that Enjolras  _ still  _ hasn’t talked to Grantaire about his true feelings and what he really wants in a relationship, right?”

“Yeah, but this is a step in the right direction,” Courfeyrac nodded. 

“Exactly,” Enjolras nodded. “I even said to him, ‘It’s a date’.” 

“That’s a figure of speech,” Combeferre rolled his eyes. “Grantaire doesn’t know that you’re treating this like an actual date.”

“Combeferre is right,” Courfeyrac nodded. “It’s just coffee and talking about bondage. That’s all,” he said passively. 

Combeferre raised his eyebrows. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me, Courfeyrac?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Courfeyrac shrugged. “Just that bondage sounds  _ really  _ hot, that’s all.”

“See what you’ve done?” Combeferre looked to Enjolras and sighed. Enjolras just laughed.

“Hey, are you both coming to that protest in London?” Enjolras asked. 

“Yeah, you know I’m in, bro!” Courfeyrac grinned. 

“Of course,” Combeferre nodded. “It’s going to be huge. And anyway, I’ve always wanted to go to London.”

“Sweet,” Enjolras nodded.

Grantaire knocked on the door at precisely nine o’clock the next morning. 

“Okay, bye,” Enjolras said softly.

“Wait,” Courfeyrac hissed. “I’ve got an idea.”

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. 

“Combeferre, you get the door,” Courfeyrac said. 

“Um, why?” Combeferre and Enjolras both asked. 

“Just do it,” Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “ _ Trust me. _ ”

Enjolras shrugged as if to say,  _ Why not?,  _ and Combeferre just shook his head and got to his feet. He opened the door. “Um, hi… Grantaire…” he said slowly, not sure what to say (what was Courfeyrac trying to accomplish exactly?). “Hi. Uh — what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, uh,” Grantaire looked panicked. “Enj and I — we’re having coffee — and, uh — is he here?”

  
“Ok, Enj, you go now,” Courfeyrac said. 

“That was it?” Enjolras hissed. 

Courfeyrac nodded and motioned for him to go.

Enjolras huffed but he hurried and pushed Combeferre aside. “Uh, yeah. Bye, ‘Ferre. Gotta go,” he said awkwardly. 

“Oh, okay,” Combeferre nodded and, just as awkwardly, added, “Um — have fun?”

“Mhm, yeah, thanks,” Enjolras slammed the door behind himself. 

“Okay, what the  _ hell  _ was that about?” Combeferre whipped around to yell at his boyfriend.

Courfeyrac stretched out on the bed with his head behind his head, grinning broadly. “I’m not sure whether it was the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end.”

“Could you  _ be  _ any vaguer?” Combeferre narrowed his eyes, annoyed. 

“I could certainly try,” Courfeyrac nodded. 

Combeferre sighed. “Well, are you going to elaborate or not?”

“All in good time,” Courfeyrac smiled. 

Combeferre rolled his eyes. 

“Now about that bondage.”

“Oh my god!”

***

“Do you think he’s suspicious?” Enjolras hissed as they were headed down the hallway. He wasn’t sure what Courfeyrac was up to, but he realized that if he actually wanted to hide this relationship with Grantaire from Combeferre and Courfeyrac then he’d probably be a little freaked right about now.

“Do I think that sweet, innocent, naive Combeferre who is, like, the human embodiment of a flower is suspicious of us going to a coffee shop to talk about me tying you up before I fuck you?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows at Enjolras. “No. No, I do not.”

_ Oh, if only you knew,  _ he thought.

“Fair enough,” Enjolras said, eager to change the subject anyway.

They caught a cab and headed to a coffeehouse several blocks away from campus. They ordered their drinks and found a table in the most secluded corner the coffee shop had to offer.

“Okay, so,” Enjolras began and he pushed Combeferre and Courfeyrac and everything that had been said that morning aside. “Um, I — so — we — uh —” he paused to sip his coffee.

Grantaire sat back and sipped his own latte. He seemed to be patient enough. 

Enjolras took a deep breath before trying again. “So I want you to tie me up.”

“Yes,” Grantaire nodded.

“And you said,” Enjolras said slowly, “that we need to talk about it.”

“Yes, I did,” Grantaire nodded. “Bondage isn’t something you can just walking into blindly. So…”

“So,” Enjolras said. “I — uh — I don’t really know where to begin.”

“Allow me?” Grantaire said.

Enjolras nodded appreciatively.  _ Thank god. _

“Okay,” Grantaire said. “First thing’s first… Why do you want to try bondage?”

Enjolras tilted his head. He hadn’t put much thought into that, he just thought that it would feel good. “Do I need a reason?”

“Not necessarily, no,” Grantaire shook his head. “But I’ve learned that everyone has some kind of reason for everything they do, even if that reason is simply because they want to. Which, by the way, is totally acceptable reason for wanting to try bondage.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said. “Well, I didn’t really think about why I want to try. I just… do.” 

“Okay, fair enough,” Grantaire nodded. “Now, how tied up would you like to be?”

“What do you mean?” Enjolras asked.

“I mean do you want me to just tie your hands?” Grantaire asked. “Do you want me to tie your hands and your feet? Do you want me to tie your hands  _ to  _ your feet? Hands to the bed? Legs to to the bed? Both?”

“Oh, wow,” Enjolras said, a tad overwhelmed. “I — erm — I didn’t really think that through. But I suppose, just starting off and all, just tying my hands to the headboard would be — that would be good.”

“Okay,” Grantaire said. “Now, as for the safeword.”

“Safeword?” Enjolras raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, it’s a word that you would use if you want to —”

“I know what a safeword is, thanks,” Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I’m not  _ that  _ oblivious. I just meant, like, will I really need one? I thought those were for things like spanking and all that.”

“They’re used then too,” Grantaire nodded. “But you need a safeword. Don’t get me wrong, if you say stop then I’m stopping.”

“Then what’s the point of a safeword?” Enjolras asked. “Why can’t I just tell you to stop?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. You could,” Grantaire said. “But you might say ‘stop’, and not really mean stop. You might say ‘stop’ and mean you need a break, but if you don’t have a safeword and you tell me to stop then, well, I’m not a mind reader. If you  _ do  _ have a safeword and you tell me to stop, I know to just give you a break, and if you  _ safeword  _ then I know the ropes need to come off and then I need to get away from you and give you space.”

“Oh, okay,” Enjolras nodded. “That makes sense.”

Enjolras was in a little too deep here. This was much more complex than he’d expected. 

“Yeah,” Grantaire said. “There are other reasons safewords make everything — well —  _ safer.  _ They make things more pleasant too. Some people want to be pushed, they want to be a given a little too much, a little out of their comfort zone, a little past their limits. One might say ‘stop’ or ‘no’ a couple times when that’s happening and not really mean it.”

“Have you ever wanted that?” Enjolras asked. “To be pushed past your limits?”

“I haven’t just wanted it,” Grantaire said. “I’ve done it.”

Enjolras tilted his head. “What’s your safeword?” he asked curiously.

“Rochambeau,” Grantaire grinned.

“Huh.” Enjolras leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What else have you done?”

Grantaire laughed. “That is not a conversation I’m willing to have sober.”

“You don’t seem to be very shy about your sex life,” Enjolras raised his eyebrows.

“No,” Grantaire shook his head. “I’m not. So that must give you a hint as to just how  _ dirty  _ those things were.”

Enjolras could feel his whole face and neck and even his ears growing hot. 

“So,” Grantaire clapped his hands together. “Safeword. What would you like yours to be?”

“Oh!” Enjolras said. “Oh. I don’t know. I’m not all that creative, you know.”

“You’ve just to pick something way out there,” Grantaire said. “Like ‘custard’, or ‘monarchy’, or ‘Aruba’.”

“Erm,” Enjolras frowned.

“Or you could use the traffic light system,” Grantaire shrugged. “That way I can do a color check every so often. Green means you’re a-okay, yellow means slow down or pause, and red means everything everything stops and all the restraints come off.”

“That — yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Enjolras nodded.

“Great,” Grantaire said. “I’m going to keep it all relatively mellow, about as vanilla as bondage can get, just so you know. Is there anything you really want me to do? Because if not then I’m just going with the basics.”

“Yeah, just,” Enjolras sighed, “just tie me up. That’s all.”

“And fuck you,” Grantaire grinned.

Enjolras blushed —  _ god,  _ why did he have to blush so much? “Yes, that too.”

“Brilliant!” Grantaire said and that  _ should  _ have been the end of their day together, but Enjolras somehow found himself stumbling drunkenly into Grantaire’s dorm with an equally drunk Grantaire.

He wasn’t too sure how coffee had turned into lunch, or how lunch had turned into going to the library to study together, or how that had turned into a movie, or how the movie had turned into dinner but here he was, stumbling into a room that wasn’t his own (but one that he was also  _ intimately  _ familiar with), both Grnataire and himself drunk as  _ shit. _

Enjolras was giggling, which he only ever did he was  _ really  _ drunk. He was hanging off of Grantaire, holding onto him by his neck.

“I don’t wanna go back to my dorm room,” Enjolras whined.

“So don’t,” Grantaire smiled. He fell backward onto his bed, pulling Enjolras down with him.

Enjolras buried his face in Grantaire’s neck. “Combeferre will get suspicious,” he mumbled, even though he knew that Combeferre knew everything. He really didn’t need to say things like that to keep up appearances, Grantaire believed him already. 

He was so drunk.

“Who cares?” Grantaire said. “Just tell him you got shitfaced and didn’t feel like walking home. He never has to know what we do. Besides, just because you  _ sleep here,  _ that doesn’t automatically mean we’re  _ sleeping together.  _ ”

“I guess you’re right,” Enjolras sighed. “And honestly, if I tried to walk back to my dorm right now, I’d probably end up in a ditch somewhere somehow.”

“You are  _ so drunk.  _ ”

“Well, so are you!”

“Never said I wasn’t!”

They laughed together. It was nice. 

Enjolras sighed. “Remember earlier when I said I hadn’t given it much thought?”

“Given what much thought?”

“Why I want to try bondage.”

“Ah, right,” Grantaire nodded. “I don’t know. Kind of. Let’s say I  _ vaguely  _ remember.”

“I  _ lied,  _ ” Enjolras giggled and Grantaire’s eyebrows went up. “I want to be tied up because I am always  _ trying.  _ Trying to everything right, trying to be perfect, and for a little while I need to just stop. I need someone to take over for a while so I can stop trying so damn hard.”

“Well, I’d be happy to,” Grantaire smiled. “But, for the record, you’re already perfect. You don’t have to try.”

_ Did he just say that or did I imagine it? _

Enjolras laughed. “Thanks, R,” he rolled his eyes because he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t dare to hope. “Hey, what sex things have you done that you wouldn’t tell me while sober?”

“Oh,  _ those,  _ ” Grantaire smirked.

“Oh, jeez,” Enjolras laughed. Obviously he was in for quite a ride.

“Do you really want to know?” Grantaire asked and Enjolras nodded eagerly.

“Okay, uh, let’s see. Did you say something about spanking earlier? I feel like you did. Maybe that was you, I don’t know.”

“I’m too drunk to remember,” Enjolras said. 

“Okay, well,  _ that,  _ ” Grantaire said and Enjolras looked at him with wide eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it?” Enjolras asked. “You’ve done crazier shit?”

“Yep,” Grantaire nodded.

“Okay,” Enjolras said slowly. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve done?”

“Hmm,” Grantaire said and he actually laid there for a minute to think about it. “Okay, craziest sex thing I’ve ever done. It was last year over Christmas break. A very good friend of mine and I booked a hotel room for a whole weekend. He tied me to the bed… for the whole weekend.”

“  _ Shit,  _ ” Enjolras hissed.

“And he, well, to put it simply, he  _ dominated  _ me,” Grantaire laughed. 

_ Shit! _

“He used just about every trick in the book. We got there Friday night, you know, and he didn’t let me come until Sunday morning.”

Enjolras squirmed, trying not picture, trying not to imagine what Grantaire would look like laid out on sleek sheets, his hands wrists and ankles tied to the bed. He’d make these  _ noises,  _ Enjolras was sure, and he’d smell of sex.

“You okay, Apollo?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I —  _ seriously,  _ why do you call me that?”

He didn’t think he’d ever let it go. The nickname used to bother him, but now he was just curious. 

“I already answered that,” Grantaire said, looking away from Enjolras’ eyes to focus on his hair. He ran his finger through Enjolras’ blond curls.

“You really didn’t, though,” Enjolras frowned.

“Talk about something else, Enj, you’re making my brain hurt,” Grantaire grumbled. He closed his eyes.

“Okay, what do you want me to talk about?” Enjolras asked.

“I don’t know, anything you want,” Grantaire shrugged. “Or you don’t have to talk at all. You could just cuddle with me. Fall asleep with me.”

Enjolras moved his head to kiss the center of Grantaire’s throat lovingly, but he stopped himself. He had to reminded himself that had far as he knew, Grantaire didn’t want more than just sex. Maybe one day they’d be together, but for right now it was just sex. That was the deal. The deal that Enjolras had agreed to. 

Enjolras rested his cheek against the place where Grantaire’s neck became his shoulder. “Okay,” he said. 

Nothing could make him happier than to just lay there in Grantaire’s warm embrace. His arms were safe and strong, and Enjolras could just let the whole world fall away from him for the time being. 

Grantaire nudged him lightly so he could sit up and grab the blankets. He draped them over the two of them then laid back down and held Enjolras close to him.

“Grantaire?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you ever go on dates?”

“Well, what do you call it when we meet up?” Grantaire asked.

“Those aren’t date,” Enjolras sighed, still admitting that to himself, still reminding him that  _ that  _ was his own damn fault. 

“You don’t go on dates,” Grantaire said accusingly.

“I’m too busy,” Enjolras pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m a double major and I organize protests and rallies and fundraisers for local charities. I don’t have time for romance.”

_ Great, that’s just what he wanted the guy who he wanted to  _ date  _ and have a  _ romantic relationship  _ with to hear,  _ Enjolras thought and he kicked himself mentally.  _ Good fucking job, Enjolras. _

“But what about you?” Enjolras questioned, eager to move on from the subject. “What’s keeping you from finding a someone to, I don’t know…”

“Make me believe in something? Make me less cynical?” Grantaire raised his eyebrows.

“Well, yes,” Enjolras nodded.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’m not good at the whole dating thing.”

_ Great, that’s just what I want to hear.  _ Enjolras thought, disappointed. 

“Well, when you go on dates people want to dig deep and learn everything about you,” Grantaire said. “They want to  _ get to know you.  _ Which, yeah, makes sense. That’s the point of dating. But when people dig a little deeper with me, they usually don’t like what they uncover.”

Enjolras frowned and stroked Grantaire’s cheek gently with his thumb.

“People want to talk about my childhood and either I lie through my teeth, or I tell them that my father beat me,” Grantaire said. “People want to talk about my dreams and aspirations, and I just don’t have any. None that I think will ever happen.”

“You’re — you’re a very talented artist, Grantaire,” Enjolras said for lack of any other ideas.

Grantaire closed his eyes. “People ask me, ‘Where do you see yourself in ten years?’ I hate that. Like… I see myself cold in the ground, my guy, but that’s not the answer you want to hear so this is an awkward predicament we’re in.”

Enjolras felt himself on the verge of tears. He wanted to tell Grantaire just how  _ special  _ he was — how unbelievably  _ wonderful  _ he was.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said softly.

“Yeah,” Grantaire opened his eyes again.

“You should sleep,” Enjolras said, because he didn’t know how to put everything he wanted Grantaire to know into words. He wanted to, so badly, but he hadn’t a clue how.

Grantaire stared at him.

“Please,” Enjolras said. “Rest.”

Grantaire finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Enjolras reached behind himself and pulled the chain on the lamp, encasing them in total darkness. He turned back toward Grantaire and their noses brushed. 

Grantaire’s breath hitched, and Enjolras’ eyes grew wide in the dark, and for a moment time seemed to stand still.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said slowly.

“Mhm?” Grantaire replied.

Did Enjolras dare to ask?

He hadn’t considered it until now. They’d slept together four or five times, now, he was starting lose track — but kissing, mouth to mouth, that was something else. That was something they hadn’t dare to do because kissing was sweet, it was loving, and they were  _ sleeping together  _ and that was all.

Enjolras wanted to, though. So much.

“Can I kiss you?”

It dawned on him suddenly, hit him like a ton of bricks, that the words were out of his mouth now and he couldn’t take them back. 

He hoped the rejection wouldn’t hurt to badly. He hoped he’d be able to brush it all off as a drunken disaster in the morning, but then Grantaire was breathing out a soft, “Yes, and they were  _ kissing.  _ It was chaste at best, but it was a  _ kiss. _

Enjolras reached up to cup the side of Grantaire’s face in his hand and was met with wet cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

Enjolras was sure, immediately, that it was his own fault Grantaire was upset. He’d done  _ something  _ wrong — he shouldn’t have asked to kiss him!

“Nothing, nothing,” Grantaire quickly said, sniffling. “Just tired.”

“Okay,” Enjolras said but he wasn’t convinced. He was so sure that he’d upset Grantaire, made him uncomfortable by kissing hi,. “Sleep. Just sleep.”  _ Please, just sleep and forget this ever happened.  _

Grantaire nodded. He wiped his cheeks and closed his eyes. “Promise you’ll stay,” he said suddenly. “Please.”

Enjolras froze. He was lost, beyond puzzled.

Maybe he  _ wasn’t  _ the reason Grantaire was upset. He smiled brightly at the thought before burying his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck. “I promise,” he said, and really, why would he want to be anywhere but right there anyway?

***

Grantaire and Enjolras both woke with a start to loud rapping on the door.

“Ugh,” Grantaire groaned.

“Want me to get it?” Enjolras asked in a groggy voice.

“No, it’s okay,” Grantaire sighed. He climbed over Enjolras and crossed the room. “Ep!” He yelled in a surprised voice. “Hi!”

Enjolras’ eyes went wide.  _ Shit.  _

“Hey,” Eponine sighed. “Can we have a drink? I need to drink.”

“Uh, sure, let’s go,” Grantaire said.

“Don’t you have anything to drink in your room?” Eponine said.

“No,” Grantaire lied.

“Since when?”

“I — um — I’m all out,” Grantaire said.

“Grantaire?”

“Eponine?”

“Are you  _ hiding something  _ from me?” Eponine snapped.

“Um — I — no, of course not, I just —”

Eponine pushed past Grantaire forcefully, ignoring his cry of, “Eponine, wait!” completely. 

Enjolras, who was looking around desperately for a somewhere to hide or another way out of the room, froze at the same time that Eponine stopped dead in her tracks.

“Eponine,” Enjolras said, trying to sound pleasantly surprised to see her.

“  _ Enjolras,  _ ” Eponine said and she looked unsure of what to say next. 

“Uh, I — I have to go, actually,” Enjolras said, making no attempt at smalltalk. “Um. Bye, Grantaire. I’ll — I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire nodded. He waved goodbye and closed the door once Enjolras was out in the hallway.

Enjolras was on his way down the hallway when he heard an angry yell of, “What the  _ hell  _ , Grantaire?!”, and he broke into a run. 

“Enjolras!” Courfeyrac grinned when Enjolras burst into his dorm (Courf was practically living with him and Combeferre nowadays). “How was your night? And, you know, your whole day? Did you get tied up? Did he fall in love with you yet?”

“Jesus, let him breathe, Courf,” Combeferre sighed.    
  


“We —” Enjolras smiled. He leaned against the door and laid his hand over his heart. “We  _ kissed. _ ”

“Oh?” Combeferre said.    
  
“We haven’t kissed before,” Enjolras said slowly. “And anyway, we weren’t having sex. We were just — we were laying there. We were going to sleep, and — and we  _ kissed. _ ”

Courfeyrac squealed. “Oh my god! You’re going to be together by the end of the year, I’m calling it here and now!”

Enjolras snorted. “That’s pushing it… but things are definitely falling into place.”

“Yes, I think they are,” Combeferre nodded. “Maybe if you just  _ talked to him  _ then you  _ would  _ be together by the end of the year.”

  
Enjolras closed his eyes. “Shut up.” He just wanted to crawl into the depths of his mind and live the few moments of his and Grantaire’s kiss over and over and over again for the rest of his life.

***

“Grantaire — yes — oh,  _ god,  _ yes!” Enjolras was anything but quiet beneath Grantaire. “Right there!  _ Right there!  _ ”

Grantaire had set a punishing pace.  _ Relentless. _

“Please, Grantaire,  _ please!  _ ” Enjolras cried.

Grantaire reached down in between them, grabbed hold of Enjolras’ cock, stripping his hand over the shaft.

“Yes, yes,  _ yes!  _ Gran  _ taire!  _ ” Enjolras came with his partner’s name on his lips and Grantaire followed him over that edge.

They breathed heavily and Enjolras cupped Grantaire’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. “Yes, yes,” he sighed happily, “so good, Grantaire, so good.”

“Hm,” Grantaire hummed and kissed Enjolras’ temple.

“I’m going away this weekend,” Enjolras told him.

“Oh?” Grantaire said. “Where to?”

“Protest in London,” Enjolras said.

“Be careful,” Grantaire said.

“You’ve never told me to be careful at a protest before,” Enjolras said.

“Well, I am now,” Grantaire shrugged.

“Okay,” Enjolras said. “I will.”

“Good.”

He could have told him. He could have told him that he would be extra careful just for him just because he cared about him  _ so damn much.  _ He loved him so much and he needed to come to Paris safely just to see him again.

He  _ loved  _ him.

He could have said it.

But he didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos&comments, always appreciated, no pressure just puttin it out there;)
> 
> all the love xx
> 
> (lil sneak peek bcause god knows when i'll have the last part up, part 6 aka part 3's sister will be titled "we hide our emotions under the surface").


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